#thank you friend <3
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my dear, I'd like to submit a Touches prompt: "#35 grabbing the other's hand to pull them back to them" for anyone who tickles your fancy. just need that sorta passion in my life 🥹
I just want to apologize for the fact that this actually is not entirely the prompt, but was 100% inspired by it — I owe you one ❤️
Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3!
Set a little bit after this prompt. Featuring Jo with some new mail and Bucky having some thoughts and feelings about that.
The Clarion starts running her picture with the new pieces.
She doesn’t hate it, but at the same time it doesn’t quite look like her, the posed portrait she’d sat for in London with her hair pinned back her uniform pressed. She’s more herself in the photos Kay takes, under the cloudy English skies. But she can’t argue with it either — a uniform means something official, and isn’t that what they’re working for? To be taken seriously, to get what the boys are given without having to fight tooth and nail for it, without jokes about lipstick or hair products or a million other things on top of it.
The problem with the picture now, though, is that everyone knows who she is. Not a celebrity, that idea is laughable, but named. Josephine R. Brandt, The Clarion’s Woman in England.
They’re like name-tags too, the adjectives used to describe her and her fellow reporters in bite-sized news items. Marian Brenner is always petite, and Kay is statuesque. Marjory Manning is titian-haired, which always gets a laugh considering Marjory makes no secret that it comes from a bottle. Jo is brunette, and pert. That word always makes Kay choke a little on her cigarette, peering at Jo and the dark circles under her eyes.
She’s spent the last few days amongst the women of the Clubmobile, sleeping in an extra bed dragged in and photographing, rather amateurly, their truck and living quarters. They were much more accommodating to her than they should have been, especially when Jo attempted to work the fryer in the name of journalistic exploration. Thankfully she was much better at cleaning, with no qualms about rolling up her sleeves.
Her hair still smells like grease as she sits in an empty mess hall, picking at one of her nails and ignoring the stack of letters beside her. Her photographs wouldn’t quite capture what she’d tried to in her writing: the smell of perfume and the lingering fryer grease, hair tonic and newsprint and cold evening air, the blankets and bedrolls and towels hanging, tables with books and magazines and framed photographs, small pots of rouge, rosaries, hair combs and extra socks. A sprig of chicory sitting in a drinking glass, the blue flowers starting to wilt at the edges.
A name. A picture. What she hadn’t been thinking about — fanmail.
It was ridiculous, the pile Kay had passed along to her in London and the one she was now patently ignoring next to her elbow. Next to a copy of the paper, a newer one with the picture.
She’d always gotten responses to her pieces back home, whether that meant someone arguing with her about a labor statistic she’d quoted or offering their own version of a recipe back when she’d been on the society pages. Now, overseas, with her name and her picture clear as day, it was like a switch had been flipped.
The only thing that she didn’t have to worry about was William.
The ring was sitting at the bottom of her trunk, buried under a sweater. Tatty had offered to run it over with the Clubmobile, but Jo got worried about the tires. Helen had suggested the fryer. A WAC with strawberry blonde hair voted for a storm drain. Biddick had plans that involved Corporal Lemmons and an unknown quantity of explosives. Douglass, inexplicably, had volunteered to make neat work of it on an upcoming mission. She had no idea how he’d even found out.
Well, she isn’t wearing it anymore, right?
“Thought I’d find you in here.”
She looks up to see Egan making his way through the doors.
“Someone looking for me?”
He glances behind him and smiles, like it’s obvious. “Yeah, me.”
Maybe she knows better by now than to ask what he’s ignoring to be here. Milk run earlier this afternoon. Not flying tomorrow.
Isn’t it time for beers and darts, right about now?
“Just answering some mail.” Actual mail, from home. Not the other stack.
Maybe fanmail is a generous term, she thinks. Most of it is opinions, loud, of where she should or shouldn’t be. Home. Doing war work instead if she had to do something. Some less savory suggestions. Being quiet.
“You’re a popular correspondent,” he says, sitting down across from her.
She snorts.
“I’m just seeing that there’s lot of letters here.”
“Astute observation, Major.” But she’s smiling.
“Friends back home?”
“Yeah. The rest is-” she gestures, almost sighing out the answer in a sudden yawn, the light outside the soft gold of early evening. “I don’t know. People have a lot to say.”
“They do, do they?”
“Sometimes I forget that I’m not just a disembodied voice, is all.”
He looks a little puzzled, but still amused. She throws the paper in front of him, and his eyes catch the column. He whistles. “Front page, huh.”
“They haven’t used a picture before.” She nods back at the stack of letters.
“Oh.” She can’t tell if he’s about to make a joke or not.
“Might just toss them,” she says. They’d be good for the paper pulp if nothing else.
He grabs one off the top, his expression clouding over as he reads.
“They write this kinda stuff to you?” he says after a minute. One of the ones that had ideas about where she should be, namely the writer’s bed. He tosses it down on the table.
She thinks of London, and Norwich, and Pittsburgh, and Philadelphia. “They say it, too.”
He exhales, the sour expression still on his face. Like a lemon. “Sure.”
“You didn’t get to the marriage proposals yet.”
“The what?”
“They’re in there, I promise. They’re nicer.” He laughs a little, just this side of bitter. She tries to look offended, tries to lighten the mood. “Maybe I ought to be insulted.”
“No, no, I just-”
“Just what?”
He’s tapping his foot a little, she can feel it under the table. Fidgeting.
“I just feel lucky, is all.” The question of it is clear on her face. Lucky, sure, to go through hell every day and make it back here, to the ground and the summer-faded English fields. “That you’re not just a picture to me.”
Oh.
Something feels caught in her throat; it takes what feels like too many seconds. “You’re awfully sweet.”
“I mean it.” She wishes she had a little crabapple to pick at, something to do with her hands. “Don’t think a picture could’ve kissed that good either-”
She tries to whack the back of her hand against his arm, but he pulls away — hey, too quick — before he leans forward again, pulls her face to his.
“Not here-” she says, a little too belatedly. He’s grinning, all wolfish. His hands are warm.
“Will you go dancing with me, then?”
A place where they can do this, she assumes, out of sight, or amongst a crowd. She says it because it feels like something she should say. “There’s something planned here for the weekend, right?”
He makes a gentle scoffing sound. “Nah, I don’t-”
“What?”
“I mean, sure, but. You know. Just be prepared for me to keep stealing you away, ok?”
“And how will that look?”Her stomach swoops, out of something like nervousness, the feel of him close to her again.
He looks, maybe, the most boyish she’s seen him. “Like I don’t like sharing.”
Like she makes that space for anyone else. That exception. “You can reserve a spot or two on your dance card for me,” she says, diplomacy betrayed by the half-waver of her voice.
He assents, not entirely satisfied, but doesn’t try for another kiss. Not here, at least. She feels a chill go through her then, when he pulls away from her, lets go.
#trying not to overthink things 2k24#masters of the air oc#mota oc#rosies-riveters#thank you friend <3#jo's tag#motaverse#shoshi writes#stop telling me amateurly isn't a word i'm saying it's a word
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Thank you to whoever gifted us with 24 hours of dashboard crabs. We are very much abusing this power
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Dead of Night
For @savage-rhi <3 || Ardyn x Reader || CW: violence, threat, injury, arachnophobia (brief description), explicit consensual sex, rough sex. Words: 4.3k
The night air was cold, but your body burned.
You’d be running for so long your feet had become numb. It wouldn’t be long until your legs followed, but you knew if you fell…you would die.
The only thing separating you from the pursuing daemons was a thicket of trees, each one being stampeded under a wave of thunderous hooves; fortunately you were nimble enough to weave between them, but not for much longer.
The wail of a creature behind you tore through the dark, realising they drew nearer with each passing moment, lungs burning and body reaching its limit. You could hear the sick churning of their starved maws as they salivated over your weak, human form. The pain was mounting; in your legs, your chest. If you stopped, you’d collapse.
Then you were as good as dead.
Don’t traverse the woods at night, he’d warned.
It was a grave mistake to have rested at the edge of the woods that day, warm sunlight lulling you into a deep sleep. You dreamed of him, his soft palm caressing your cheek. The comfort of his bare chest against your ear. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat.
Awoken only by the ground shaking, your heart pounded as a hulking beast tunnelled toward you, causing you to scramble and turn heel to run into the woods. It was the only way it wouldn’t catch up to you.
And as the sun disappeared behind the trees, and dusk faded to darkness, nothing but your shoulder torch lit up the vast labyrinth before you. It wasn’t long before the night’s daemons rose for the hunt. You fought the thought of being devoured by one of those things. It was the only thing keeping you running.
You couldn’t call for help even if you thought it would be anything other than futile. It would only slow you down. You cursed your stupidity; travelling alone, falling asleep, not telling anyone where you’d gone.
Your composure waned as your hope began to disintegrate, along with your legs. You were completely depleted, suddenly stumbling over an uprooted tree and sending yourself tumbling down a short hill and into a shallow ditch. Your body collided hard with the damp earth, tearing a hole in your jacket and the skin of your forearm along with it. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as loose twigs pricked holes in your bare flesh and mud stained your face. You tried to claw your way out, using what strength remained in your arms, but it was hopeless. You couldn’t move your body.
The sound of monsters scuttling and thumping through the woods drew nearer and you shut your eyes. You couldn’t bare for the last thing you saw to be what killed you; you tried to sink into your mind, go to a place of safety, disassociate the pain away, before—
You felt your body being hoisted from the ground in a jerking motion, dangled in the air by your wrist, threatening to dislocate it under your bodyweight. Instinctively, you opened your eyes. You couldn’t help it.
The dark started back. Hundreds of black eyes shone in the light of your torch above a mouth of a thousand teeth. You’d heard about these things; sharp, eight-legged, humanoid abominations that tore through flesh a rabid animal.
And it was smiling. Drooling black ooze beneath a row of jagged spikes.
Only then did you scream. A sound that pierced the night, scattering the crows that gawked above waiting to pick on your remains. It wasn’t enough for the thing to finish you quickly; it took its time, tilting its head as if confused by your terror, leaning so close you could smell the last victim on its breath. Kicking your legs only served to further dislocate your wrist, and with a sickening pop, something shifted. Your shoulder, wrist, elbow, you weren’t sure. The pain shot up your arm like a hot poker and suddenly you wished your whole body were numb.
It shook you like a ragdoll when your scream shifted to high pitch wailing, like it was curious what would elicit the most pleasing sounds from you.
In fear you’d closed your eyes again, but you could hear a clicking sound, something from deep within the creature's gut. It grew louder until you could feel the brush of something razor sharp against your flesh, and your eyes snapped open.
A gurgling, gaping hole greeted you; the thing had stretched its jaw open so wide it intended to swallow you whole. Perhaps crunch a few bones on the way down. This was it.
In your final moments, you shut your eyes and prayed.
Your soul cried out for the Six not to save you, but at least grant you a painless death. Something instant before eternal darkness.
Yet in your despair, you saw not the Gods behind your eyes.
You saw him.
As if in slow motion, the daemon unfurled its vice grip and your limp body fell to the ground with a thud. Your cold cheek met the wet leaves below and you inhaled the scent of fresh mud and rain. It all happened too fast to process.
You could hear a high pitched wail, like the screech of a dying animal.
Am I dead?
You thought it could be you, caught in a dissociative state in your final moments. Steadily you curled your fingers, gripping the earth beneath them.
No, it was real. Tangible.
You were alive.
Lifting your head, you began to sit up, angling your torch with your good hand toward the sound. Though the moonlight shone through the thicket, all you could make out was the silhouetted shape of the creature being…separated.
With a vicious crack the daemon’s limbs were torn off one by one, black flashes of what looked like smoke darting back and forth before the thing could turn and react. Piece by bloody piece something severed each part of the monster with sickening precision. It didn’t take long for the screeching to stop, followed by a deep purple haze that illuminated the trees with a sickly glow.
Whatever killed that monster, must have been something far worse.
You scrambled to your feet, almost collapsing under your own weight. Supporting your limp arm with your other hand, you struggled away from the area, back toward the treeline. If you could make it out, you could make a break through the fields and into the city where it was safe.
It can’t be more than half a mile, you thought. I can just make it.
As you staggered toward safety, you noticed the black smoke was close behind. It weaved purposely from tree to tree in your peripheral vision like it was stalking you. There was no time to wonder why it didn’t strike, you just limped as fast as you could, panting and embracing the pain coursing through your body.
As the trees began to grow sparse, you knew you were close, but before you could see the treeline, the black smoke materialised in front of you. Thick. Black. Impenetrable.
This is it.
It’s over.
This time, you stood your ground. You stared death in the face with a fear you’d never experienced before, adrenaline the only thing keeping you upright.
You never expected death to be a face you recognised.
Stepping from the darkness was the silhouette of a man, stepping slowly closer and closer until fully illuminated by your shoulder torch.
“Ardyn…” You whispered. But it wasn’t him, not really.
His eyes were completely black, and a dark, viscose liquid oozed from his lips and tear ducts. Black, spider-like veins weaved over pale skin and his face wore this vacant expression like he wasn’t really there.
It’d been him that saved you from the arachne.
You’d seen him this way once before, if only for a brief moment, but this time was different. The way he stalked toward you. His intense stare. It was as if he’d killed that thing in order to kill you himself.
As he reached you, you backed up into a nearby tree, pressing yourself against the rough bark. But he didn’t stop. He towered over you, slamming a fist into the tree above your head.
“What are you doing here?” He said in this disembodied voice that was near and far all at once.
You could see his chest heaving as the scourge worked through his body, lips twisting up into a vicious snarl.
You were speechless. Scared. You watched him tear that thing to pieces like a flower petal in a storm. There was a rage behind his eyes that only grew with your silence.
“Answer me!” He snatched up your wrist and slammed it against the tree above your head.
Fire scattered across your skin and you cried out in pain, but it did nothing to temper his fury.
“I made a mistake!” You wailed, turning your face away from him. “The forest…” Sobbing, he only pressed your wrist harder into the tree. “I fell asleep! Please—” you squeezed your eyes shut in pain. “Please let go.”
You deserved punishment for getting yourself into this situation, but not like this. Ardyn had never hurt you before, but that’s what the scourge was. Darkness. Pain. Everything that it represented channelled through him to hurt you. To hurt him.
The dark void of his eyes swallowed your presence and filled you with dread. Even the light of the moon was lost to the darkness he emitted.
Despite your fear, you turned back to him, his face even closer now than before. You wanted to reach for him, to touch his face, but you couldn’t. Between your broken wrist and your pinned arm, you were immobile. There was no use trying to appeal to reason.
So instead, you slowly leaned your head forward. The top of your forehead touched his gently and together, you took a breath.
Time slowed in that moment. Your breathing syncronised, and though you could still hear the low pitched rumble in the back of his throat, you swallowed your fear and attempted to connect to what was underneath all of this.
But he pushed you away.
He needs help.
Releasing the grip on your arm, he staggered backward, clutching at his chest as if he intended to pull the scourge out from within.
“Stay away from me,” he growled, turning his face away from you.
But you were frightened of what he’d become. How he shifted in this state of inebriation. The way his hungry eyes searched yours but not with love, with something hateful. Destructive.
The scourge was killing him.
“Ardyn—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted before you could even begin your protest. “Leave this place.”
“I’m not leaving without you.” You pushed yourself off the tree and began to approach him.
“Leave!” He shouted, head whipping around to face you, but this time, those piercing yellow eyes stared back. They shone in the moonlight like a wolf; vicious and greedy.
You halted at his command, scanning the empty woods for signs of life. It was as if nothing would dare approach him.
I can’t leave him here. You turned away, trying to reorient yourself.
As you turned, you heard the slump of Ardyn’s body against the woodland floor, looking over to see him on his knees, face shrouded by hair.
You knelt your bruised knees on the damp ground before him, bringing your hand to his cheek. He was as cold as the night itself.
“Go…” he muttered in this defeated tone that made your heart sink. “Get out of here.”
“No.” You shook your head with determination. “You saved me.”
“I’m…” Ardyn lifted his gloved hands to look into his bloodied palms. There was a moment of clarity within; the eye of a storm.
“...I’m a monster.” Closing them into fists, he used the back of his hand to nudge your arm away.
A gentle breeze scattered matted strands of hair in front of his face. In your torchlight you could see the way the veins crawled up his neck and around his fingers like barbed wire, watching as the scourge pulsed beneath his skin. It was its own living thing, polluting not just his flesh, but his mind.
“Did I hurt you?” He looked up with a flash of desperation in his eyes, clawing at what humanity remained in spite of the scourge.
You looked down at his bloody handprint around your wrist. “I’ll be okay.”
It was only then you saw his face change with tender sincerity; a look of acceptance and sorrow. He’d hurt the very thing he’d tried to protect, and that appealed to what sliver of compassion remained.
His soul was in tatters.
“I…” his hand tentatively reached for you, and without hesitation, you let him rest his palm atop yours.
A faint white glow shone between you, something magical against the blackness of night. He still had the power to heal, but it was not without consequence.
The pain in your body subsided, but the ache in your heart grew as you observed his skin grow paler, a web of black veins splaying across his face.
“Stop,” you whispered, pulling your hand away, but he wasn’t done with you. He threaded his fingers through yours and kept going, giving you this sense of beautiful euphoria that made your head spin.
You were entranced by it, basking in the warm glow of his healing, feeling it flow through you from head to toe. It was warmth, pleasure, and relief all at once.
All too quickly, it was over. He withdrew his hand and you could see the conflict on his face, struggling to contain the scourge that swelled within.
“It’s not safe here,” you said quietly, attempting to garner his attention. “Let’s go.” Reaching out your hand, he simply stared at you, vacant eyes searching for something.
The moon had long disappeared behind the treeline, using only torchlight to illuminate you both. Daemons still roamed the night in distant droves, burrowing beneath the earth's surface waiting to strike. It was no longer safe here. You weren’t sure how much more Ardyn could take.
“Come on.” You stood, guiding him up with you and turning a heel to head back toward the forest's edge.
“Wait.” Ardyn stopped you, pulling you by your hand to collide with him. You placed your hands against his chest as he closed the gap between you entirely, allowing you a good look at his face.
He was terrifying. But he was beautiful.
For a long moment he pinned you there, amber eyes lit up by your flickering torchlight.
“Thank you,” he whispered finally, easing up a little to lift a curled finger beneath your chin. Melting into his touch, any thoughts of fleeing that place drifted away. Any doubt you felt scattered like leaves in the wind, absorbed by his strange affection. One moment he’d torn your captor limb from limb, and the next—
He kissed you. Slowly, softly, like he was reaching out for something. Hoping to regain his humanity, he held on to something that anchored him to this world.
You.
You hummed into the kiss, slipping a hand up his neck and into his hair. He groaned with renewed vigour and opened his mouth to let his tongue slip into yours. You could feel his skin grow warm beneath your touch. There was something animalistic about the way he moved; his arm at your back, fingers against your neck, the way he kissed you with a sense of urgent hunger. You could feel his shoulders wind up tight as he stepped forward, causing you to move with him.
Before long you’d backed up against a tree and he’d parted your legs with his knee.
“Ardyn—” you broke the kiss and immediately he moved to your neck, sucking continuously on one spot. The motion took your breath away, feeling his fingertips press against your cheek to keep you from squirming. “What are you—”
“I need you,” he said in a low, saccharine way that made your legs ache.
Now.
Please.
You heard both words simultaneously, a voice of his and a voice not dissimilar— a sound both demanding and desperate. He did not wait for your permission before gripping your chin harshly in his hand and using his tongue to tangle with yours. A tense shock coursed through your body when you felt something between your legs, rubbing over the fabric of your clothing and pulling you taut as a string. You tried to pull away to gasp but he wouldn’t let you, feeling the resistance of his fingers pressing into your delicate flesh. Instead you whimpered into the kiss, muted by the flick of his hungry tongue, eager hand working to free some room between your clothes and skin.
When you felt the brush of two fingers slide down your bare clit your mouth fell open and he released your face, letting you throw your head back against the tree. His movements were frantic yet precise, dipping down to force his fingers inside you without time to adjust.
“A—Ardyn—”
“Quiet,” he commanded, stubble grazing your neck. You moaned softly and he returned a low growl, opening his mouth to bite that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder.
Before you could so much as wince, he fingered you harder, grazing your clit with his palm brushing frantically against you. With each pleasured sound you made he descended into further his carnal state, black-tinged form leering over you.
“We—we can't be here... I— it’s dangerous—” Your knees were buckling, legs beginning to shake but that only appeared to encourage his passionate movements, driving his fingers deep inside you and curing at that sweet spot.
The muscles tightened in his arms, thick lump in his trousers pushing against you. He tilted his head when you opened your heavy-lidded eyes, admiring the way you shivered and hissed against his rough treatment.
“I want you,” he repeated, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tasting you from your shoulder to your neck, all the way up to your ear. You were panting now, inadvertently grinding against him as you felt the pleasure building inside.
“Please…” you said breathlessly, somewhat of a plea for release yet also for safety. But it was clear he needed this. Needed you.
You could feel how wet you were as he worked your body into a fever, chasing release whilst emptying your mind of all that ailed you.
Even though the scourge made his movements rugged and wild, the man knew exactly how to please you; and his aim was just that.
Your hand tangled in his hair and pulled, eliciting a long groan from him, mouth closing with a satisfied hiss.
“Careful,” he warned, moving close to your ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Your world went completely dark and suddenly, you panicked.
Though as quickly as you lost sight of your surroundings, they reappeared, though not the same as before. Ardyn took you into the shadows, transporting you to the safety of the edge of the forest, still concealed by shadow.
It took you a moment to recover before you realised you were on your back and he was on top of you, undressing you from the waist down.
“Where—” You were silenced as he ducked down between your legs, not giving you a moment to speak before closing his mouth around your clit.
You whimpered loudly, clamping one hand over your mouth, shutting your eyes to feel the way his tongue lavishly ate you out. When your leg began to shake, he pinned you down, though it wasn’t his hands you felt wrap around your thighs.
Thick, black, wispy tentacles curled around your legs and spread them open, letting his mouth work on your pussy without interruption. You could feel yourself reaching your apex, but when his fingers returned with a forceful thrust, you couldn’t last much longer.
“Ardyn…” you couldn’t catch your breath, “I’m—”
You were silenced by your own body pulsing with an intense form of pleasure, leaving you weak and shuddering. With your back arched the orgasm ripped through you and he only continued, elongating each wave that crashed harder and longer as it passed. Your breath slipped past your fingers in a shameful moan, quivering at the mercy of his intrusive tongue and fingers. Still he slowly mouthed your clit, letting you come down from your high before preparing you to give him what he needed.
Your eyes fluttered open as your torchlight faded, replaced by the dull glow of dawn approaching the horizon. You watched as Ardyn sat up on his knees, situated between your legs, still spread open by the misty appendages.
“Are you frightened?” He looked down at you, black eyes still dripping scourge.
You weren’t sure if it was the euphoria answering, but you shook your head, seeing past his tainted exterior to the man you knew and loved.
As he unbuckled himself, he leaned over your exposed body, shuddering as he grazed his cock between your wet folds.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered, a tentacle weaving its way up your body to your neck, pinning you in position. You weren’t sure the extent of his actions; what was really him, and what was controlling him, but you trusted him to keep you safe, even if he lost himself for a moment.
You simply nodded in affirmation, a sign of trust, before he couldn’t hold back anymore.
He thrust himself into you in one slick motion, teeth clenched with a suppressed growl, wasting no time in working his hips back and forth to pleasure himself.
You could feel the weight of him inside you, the desperation of his desire; a scourge-fuelled lust for the most sinful pleasure. With blatant disregard for your adjustment, he lost himself in the feeling, grunting in your ear as he filled you again and again, body pliable under the instruction of the scourge.
You bit your lip to stop from wailing, though not for the pain, because it felt good. You wanted for him to defile your body however he saw fit; to let him release himself through you.
You could tell he delighted in the suppressed expression on your face, the tentacle at your neck forcing you to look up at him as he watched your expression twitch and shudder. The only thing escaping were the quiet moans of his name as he pounded you with his swollen cock, lifting your legs higher to ensure the angle allowed him deeper.
“I want to hear you,” he said in your ear, intruding your mouth with his thumb to pry your bottom jaw open. “Scream for me.”
You bit down on his thumb in an act of defiance, and so quickly did you realise this was a grievous error.
Ardyn smirked and the tentacle around your neck squeezed; not enough to threaten, yet enough to make you see stars, enhancing the pleasure he was driving into you. With sick satisfaction he watched as your eyes rolled back in a state of semi-consciousness, waiting for the right moment.
It all happened when you started to whimper.
The pressure on your neck eased up and instead, something slithered over your swollen clit, wrapping around it and pulsing as Ardyn’s throbbing cock filled you with each hard stroke.
“Keep that up and I won’t stop fucking you come sunrise,“ he whispered in your ear, letting your consciousness fully return.
You were panting, wailing at the overwhelming sensation when his head lowered to your neck and his lips pulled back to sink a deep mark into your skin. You tried to writhe under the assault of his hips only to be pinned harder, once fond kisses developing into carnal bites. You felt his calloused fingers work up your scalp and twist in a fistful of hair, pulling back hard to allow him further access to your skin.
You gasped, earning a deep chuckle from him, all the while pumping you with violent rigour.
“Look at me,” he commanded and you listened, obeying, hanging on each order as his cock rutted into you. Your thighs began to tremble as you approached a second release, oversensitive clit being constantly stimulated.
“I—I can’t…” you stuttered, maintaining eye contact. “Can’t take m—much more.”
“I’ll use you for as long as I like,” he chuckled into your ear, biting the bottom of your earlobe.
“P—please,” you begged, feeling your body trembling toward another orgasm. “...mn—”
His hips and the pulsing worked in sync, hastening pace only hurtling you to reach your end and calling out his name.
And that was exactly what he wanted to hear.
You could feel the twitch of his cock inside you, the way his hips assaulted you bringing him to the brink of climax, ensuring to prolong his pleasure as far as he saw fit.
His breathing became ragged and his words stopped; all you could hear were the animalistic grunts of his euphoria whilst his fist pulled tightly wound in your hair.
“Ardyn,” you said softly at first, the slithering tentacle at your clit and thick cock filling you almost unbearable to take.
With a final call of his name, his mouth fell open in a long, loud groan, pressing his stubbled cheek against yours and holding you tightly as he pumped you through his orgasm, and yours quickly followed.
You cried out at the crescendo of feelings; the subtle pull of each hair on your head, the slither around your clit, his hot cock dragging in and out and filling you with cum.
Both spent, he lay atop you panting, tentacles withdrawing as the sun crested the horizon.
Still afflicted with scourge, he took his palm to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his thumb.
“Thank you…” he muttered, shielded from the rising sun by the shadow of a tree.
You let your body go limp, nuzzling into the warmth of his hand.
“Let’s go home.”
#ardyn izunia#ffxv#ardyn lucis caelum#ardyn x reader#final fantasy xv#ardyn#comm#thank you friend <3
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Ahh Clark appearing in borderline!! Amazing! I've loved every bit of this story 🥰💕
Hope you're doing well!
Thank you! Yeah he's been on my list to appear for several chapters now but it wasn't right yet -- had to get all the feelings and stuff out in the open first.
I love writing about him, he's so fun to play with. Poor Bruce was being teased a lot but Clark would be mortified to know what they were thinking about him.
I also think it's super interesting that this bond is so undetectable to him, when usually his powers sniff out any new thing or development. So he might be figuring out that something is wrong, but he can't sense it, or see it, or feel it at all -- that's limited to a very small number of people, like Zatanna, J'onn, etc.
#asks#myfic#borderline#thank you friend <3#I appreciate the ask#I really do like explaining my thought process over here for decisions#it's really fun#bruce wayne#batman#dc#theresurrectionist#batfamily#clark kent#superman
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🥺🎯👀✅
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?
Any type of brotherly bonding, with any of the KP brothers ;_; I'm a middle child and I don't have a good relationship with either of my brothers, so that always gets to me.
As for good feels, I love it when Kim is allowed to just be a kid, and for he and Chay to interact as friends, not just boyfriends. Everything about their relationship is so intense all the time, I love it when they get to goof off and play videogames and just enjoy each other's time. Kim is younger than me! He's a baby!
🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?
Yes they have. Unfortunately, outside of Out of the Shadows, I don't have any plot-heavy fics posted, and that one is still in the set-up stage, so there's no real plot to guess on. But back in my teen wolf days, I remember getting so excited whenever someone would predict the plot for Estranged. I legit kept track of users and would dedicate chapters to them when we got to the reveals that they guessed.
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
wouldn't you like to know 👀 Idk what to talk about that 1. you don't already know, and 2. that I haven't already gushed about on here. Bc! I! am a wordy bitch! In need of constant validation!
Hmmm. I will say... I do have that AU based on the Dum Dum unchained BTS. I've hit somewhat of a block on it so idk when I'll get it finished and posted, but that one is heating up! Kim is nearly-feral and mostly nonverbal after being... kind of trafficked? For a while?? He was kidnapped to use as leverage against his father, however by that point has just left the family, and is no longer useful/wanted. Letting him go was never an option, especially since Korn refused to trade, that would show weakness. And it would be a waste just to kill him... so. Bad times are had. But it's alright, Chay has a thing for lost and wounded strays, he's all too happy to take care of Kim. Too bad Kim can't trust him enough to let him.
I also have a PWP cropping up that just needs a few finishing touches. Nothing dramatic there, just a KimChay sex scene instead of their very adorable couch cuddles.
✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?
Depression. I have no idea, I've suddenly forgotten anything I've ever written. No but really, when it comes to long fics, I think I almost always write a nightmare/comfort scene. They're just *clenches fist* so good. Oh, and I'm incapable of writing something purely happy/fluffy. I always wind up working some angst in there somewhere lol . I've given up and accepted my fate
Send me a fic writer ask!
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Random reminder you are valued and appreciated by others even if they don't or can't express it to you.
You'll always have that quality even if you are alone because whether its a past or future or even current time you'll always have that worth that others will see even if you can't
Thank you Indigo <3
That's probably good to hear since I'm heading into another semester living alone (but with my service dog). You tell me I am valued even if I can't see it- thank you.
Random reminders are the best, your kindness makes me happy
And I just redyed my hair purple! I don't post pictures of myself, but it's about this colour
Made me think of you
#asks#personal#indigoartistqueen#thank you friend <3#gotta tell you the story sometime of the first time I dyed my hair purple indigo#haven't changed much from purple since#was honestly gonna message you and tell you about my hair anyway but you reached out first much love to you#me and indigo are like two cats who suddenly live in the same house#we just occasionally reach out and paw the other#my friend <3
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Tagged by @ladyvean – Thank you, my lizard queen! <3
Last song I listened to: I'm listening to „Götterdämmerung“ by Zeal and Ardor right now.
Currently reading: „Vagina Dentata“ by Luci van Org, „Die Nonne“ by Denis Diderot and the third part of the Franz Kafka-biography, written by Reiner Stach.
Last watched: good ol' „Grave Encounters“
Currently obsessed with: a band named Coppelius. Obsessed is absolutely the right word. My god...
tagging: @glasmotte @unfortunately-unoriginal @wat-the-cur
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💖 🖊 🤔 for the most talented of writers
hello friend <3
💖 what do you like most about your own writing? I am generally really happy with my prose. I think it usually has a distinctive sound to it and it has taken me a long time to arrive at that, and to be happy with it.
🖊 post a snippet from a current wip:
(ok I am working on this but also I do have a twiyor fic in the works for @nightofnyx8 and @firewoodfigs xoxo)
“It shouldn't be this hard to get a taxi,” Jean grumbles, but Rebecca rolls her eyes.
“Everyone damn person out here is trying to do the same thing,” she says. “We've got shit timing, that's all.”
With her back pressed against the side of the building, brick catching at the shoulders of her sweater, Riza shivers. Roy notices that, along with the way she has tucked her hands inside her sleeves. It's a chilly night for East City.
Roy does not offer her his coat.
The thought of her wearing it, of it coming home with him smelling of her – it's too familiar. Tonight was a bad idea but that would be a worse one, one too many fine lines crossed for one evening. It was the sort of night where he had set out to drink alone and run into one too many familiar faces the moment he laid eyes on Jean Havoc, accompanied closely by Rebecca with Riza in reserve.
“If you're cold you should go back inside,” he says firmly.
It's not meant to be cruel but it comes off like it, the sharp line of her mouth tightening.
“I'm fine, sir.”
If the formality of her response was intended to wound it finds its mark, burying itself like a dagger in his chest, just to the left of his heart. She knows him well enough to understand what he meant, even if it wasn't what he said out loud.
That is a sort of familiarity too, one he has tried to avoid without success.
It would be easy, with her.
Easy to fall into a habit, to let that habit become a problem.
🤔 what is the hardest part of writing fic? finishing any of it hahaha I have so many half-baked drafts of things and getting to the point where I can say 'this is finished for now' is really difficult, especially if it's something longer
list of asks here
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OH MY GODDDDDD THE WAY U WRITE SUB GOJO???????? HELLO??????? oh my god. it's so...... yeah. wow. gonna be thinking abt that for a longgggg longgg time <33 gkjdgdkjhtst
It’s so nice hearing that people liked my sub Gojo because I was posting that fic with fear in my heart
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oh my GOD barking harker is good. i read the teaser and i want to inject it into my veins
Thank you! :')
Also, note to self: Look into IV drip as a reading medium
#I will always write out of spite but happy comments always dissolve me into a giddy scribbling goo#so really#thank you friend <3#my writing#barking harker
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The boy is so plainly. Bewildered. The old sense of it. Lost in a wild.
Poor thing. It is unfair, to grow up so swiftly.
Again, just a glorious chapter!!!
catching up on my asks — tysm !! <3 <3
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🌺✨️💜 SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL! KEEP THE GAME GOING! 💜✨️🌺
AHHHHH BELOVED THANK YOU SO MUCH I'LL DEFINITELY BE PASSING IT ON 💖
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girl there are so many things i love about your writing, but you have a true knack for inner monologues and characterization through that. something i often struggle with. you just seem to get it!! i love it so much and i love YOU!
😭💕 nope, i am out of words today. just. in case you've forgotten how much i appreciate you:
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hey do you accept kitties as a comfort thing?
it's for the sadposting. i won't tell you not to be sad, it's important to be sad sometimes (even though it sucks) but you don't have to be sad alone. you can be sad with my cats (ignore the cable, i was doing a thing and they decided they Must lay on top it while watching me)
Kitties are my #1 comfort thing thank you :,) give them big hugs for me
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Bless you for posting amazing fic right as I get home from work. It's such a nice way to relax and decompress after a long day 🙏
you're welcome :) I'm happy that folks want to read my fics after a long day at work!
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1, 4, 23, 24, 25 for the music asks
1: Do you play any instruments?
i do! sax, bass, guitar. formerly clarinet and french horn which i was pretty good at but sold to get my nylon string. oh on a related note im in the process of buying an epiphone wildkat, my first electric guitar!!! soooo excited
4: Do your parents approve of your music?
not really. my mom likes folk and bluegrass and my dad likes folk rock. im sure they both wish id get into stuff like that so i dont annoy them in the car lol
23: Do you enjoy singing?
not really because i suck LOL
24: Have you ever performed in front of others?
oh yeah, in grade school i did tons of classical performances. i was fine in a group but hated solos so i just. only ever played in band
25: Do you sing in the shower? What’s your go-to song?
i do not! it frustrates me that i dont sound like peter hammill lol
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